


Don't Cry Over Spilled Olives

by whenyoudesertme (phrenk)



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrenk/pseuds/whenyoudesertme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aiba was toweling off his hair when he heard the cursing start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Cry Over Spilled Olives

**Author's Note:**

> Fills my Rainbowfilling prompt "not strong enough". Thanks to kinoface for looking it through! ♥ Cross-posted [here](http://whenyoudesertme.livejournal.com/34417.html).

Aiba was toweling off his hair when he heard the cursing start.

It was definitely Ohno, and he sounded more irritated than upset, so Aiba wasn't especially alarmed. He wrapped the towel around his hips and tucked the end in tightly as he listened to the complaining noises from the direction of the kitchen increase in volume. The towel was a little small to afford him any modesty, but Leader wasn't one to be offended by a peek at Aiba's naughty bits anyway.

When he was halfway to the kitchen, there was an ear-ringing crash. Aiba started running, calling, "Leader, Leader, are you okay?"

Stopping dead as his feet hit the cool tiles of the kitchen floor, he stared at Ohno, who'd resumed cursing as if the awful noise had never happened. It seemed he was trying to open a jar of olives.

Aiba blinked, somehow calmed by the cranky expression on his boyfriend's face, then looked down at the floor. Apparently they'd had two jars of olives, judging by the sprawl of olives, brine, and shattered glass now marring the cheerful blue and green tiles.

Stepping very carefully around the mess to lay a hand gently on Ohno's shoulder, Aiba ventured, "Leader... I think you could probably still eat those olives." When Ohno looked up at him with a snap in his eyes, Aiba said hurriedly, "Or not! I know Matsujun would say not, but those ones at the top haven't even touched the floor, just other olives, and it's our floor anyway, right, and our feet? And--"

"I can get it open!" Ohno growled menacingly, and Aiba took a step back, startled. Ohno went back to the intact jar of olives, which was resisting his enraged attempt with ease, and Aiba almost laughed, because he could never actually be afraid of their Leader, before he felt a sharp pain on the arch of his foot.

"Oh," he said, concerned, and gingerly walked back around the puddle of glass and olives in order to sit at a stool at their kitchen counter. He looked at the vivid smears of red on their tiles, which he was really quite fond of and were taking far too much abuse tonight, and then at Ohno, who was obliviously snarling at the placid jar of olives in his hands.

Aiba abruptly realized that he was sitting bare-assed on the thankfully smooth wood of the stool. He sat there for a second anyway, overwhelmed by the shift from relaxed bathing with intent to lure Ohno into their bedroom later, to a mess of problems that had seemed to burst into his night like a jar of olives crashing to the floor.

He closed his eyes and thought. Sho would say he should make a list of priorities, but Nino would retort that of course the first priority was dealing with the fact that he was _bleeding_ , so Aiba took a look at the bottom of his injured foot.

"Ouch," he said belatedly, then giggled at the whole situation. He'd thought living with Ohno would be restful, and it was most of the time, but he'd forgotten that his boyfriend could be stubbornly particular about things, especially in his own space. Aiba loved him so much that sometimes he just had to cry, and that was when it was especially good to be with Ohno, because Ohno, rather than feeling awkward, cried with him, and that made Aiba feel so loved that he just cried harder even as he couldn't stop smiling.

He didn't see any glass at all, and the cut was long but shallow. It had already stopped bleeding now that he wasn't walking on it. Aiba lowered it so his heel rested on the rung of the stool and moved on to his next priority.

"Leader," he said firmly. "Hand over the jar."

"No, I won't," Ohno whined, completely uncaring of any sort of dignity. Aiba figured that made them even, since Aiba still hadn't prioritized finding his towel again anyway.

"I'll open it, if you want olives that bad, okay? Leader," Aiba said more coaxingly, "hand over the jar. Now. Okay? I mean, now!"

Ohno clutched the jar tighter to his chest, but he finally met Aiba's eyes. He didn't seem to notice that Aiba was completely nude, but then Ohno had always been single-minded when he got obsessed with something or other. Those stupid olive jars had given Ohno blinders, and Aiba pouted a little, since he always enjoyed it when Ohno ogled him, especially because it so frequently turned into touching.

"Hand it over, Leader, I mean it," Aiba said, deepening his voice to a husky demand that he hoped would at least break through to Ohno's dick, if not his pride.

"Why?" Ohno demanded back. He'd started straining fruitlessly against the jar again, but he did it close to his body, as if he thought maybe Aiba wouldn't notice.

Aiba cast about for a reason that wouldn't make Ohno even more stubborn. He settled on, "Leader, I'm your boyfriend, right? And boyfriends open jars for each other. It's in the job description." He nodded decidedly and tried to look knowledgeable.

Ohno furrowed his brow, but he stopped trying the jar for the moment. "But I'm your boyfriend, too," he said slowly. "So why should you open the jar?"

Without missing a beat, Aiba replied, "Because you're the one who wants the olives, of course! If _I_ wanted olives, wouldn't you open the jar for me?"

Instinctively Ohno nodded, expression softening. "That's true."

He held out the jar, smiling sweetly at Aiba, and only then did he comprehend that Aiba was naked. His eyes widened, his jaw went slack, and the second jar of olives went smashing against their blue and green tiles.

After a long silence, Aiba said tentatively, "I don't suppose we have a third jar of olives."

Ohno shook his head, but his eyes stayed on Aiba, leaving trails of heat everywhere they lingered.

Aiba scratched his head, trying to think of a way to be a good boyfriend. "I could go buy you some olives?" he offered.

Ohno shook his head again, dismissing the olives without a qualm, and mumbled with abstracted determination, "Let's go to bed."

He walked around the shards of glass without looking down, graceful in a way that had Aiba's pulse speeding up, and seemed, quite clearly, to be considering if he could pick Aiba up and carry him off to their bedroom.

"Ah, I'm bleeding," Aiba said hastily, putting out a hand to ward Ohno off for the moment. He then decided his dignity could take a bigger hit than that, so he said more pitifully, "Leader, I'm bleeding."

Ohno pulled back, eyebrows coming together. He looked down and seemed to see the forest of glass he'd created on the kitchen floor, and his eyes caught on the drying smudges of Aiba's blood.

Gentle fingers wrapped around Aiba's ankle, and Aiba bent his knee so that Ohno could lift his foot up enough to inspect it.

"Leader," Aiba said happily, leaning some of his weight into Ohno's warmth. Now that the jar problem was over, and he and Ohno were touching, it felt like he had everything figured out. "Leader, I have a list of priorities."

Still bent over Aiba's foot, Ohno grunted in a way that could have meant _go ahead_ , so Aiba did.

"Number one, a bandaid, if we have one."

Ohno dropped a kiss on the arch of Aiba's food, then said, "Matsujun gave us a first-aid kit as a housewarming present, remember."

"Number two," Aiba said, slightly breathless now. "We clean up the kitchen."

Ohno kissed his way up to Aiba's ankle. "Number two, no good."

"Number three," Aiba persisted, feeling he must adhere to his list of priorities at least in the saying of them, though he was feeling more naked by the second. "You eat one of these olives. To show that you've won, you know?"

Ohno grinned by Aiba's knee, then pressed his lips against it as he chuckled. "Forget number three."

Aiba threaded his fingers through Ohno's hair. "Number four. Let's go to bed." He seemed to remember that his list had previously contained an item about retrieving his towel, but he didn't think that one was relevant any longer, though he spared a thought to hope the dampness wouldn't do harm to their pretty tiles.

Letting Aiba's foot come back to rest, Ohno knelt creakily so that he could rest his head on Aiba's thigh, looking up at him without smiling. "I'm sorry you hurt your foot."

"It's okay, Leader," Aiba laughed softly, petting Ohno's hair. "I blame the olives."

For a moment it seemed like Ohno was going to get irritated about that again, but then he rubbed his cheek against Aiba's hip and smiled.

"One and four. Ready?" He sounded quietly happy and turned on and completely on Aiba's side, ready to attack their (admittedly short) list of priorities.

Aiba pulled Ohno up and kissed him, putting all his affection into it.

Finally, he pulled away only to lean his forehead against Ohno's and whisper conspiratorially, "You get priority one and meet me at priority four. Go!"


End file.
